Truth, Uncertainty, and Tomorrow
by CrossTycoon
Summary: Mid-19th Century Russia. A daughter of the prestigious House of Pravda, who never had a fear in the world, prepares to embark on a new chapter of her life. But is she ready? Does she even want to? Oneshot.


I, CrossTycoon, being of sound mind and body, do declare that I came up with this entire oneshot from laying my eyes on the picture that is displayed in the title page.

Seriously. O_o

Also, the background is meant to be early to mid-19th Centuery Russia. I wiki'd my way through the fic, so I may have failed my portrayal of Russian nobility and serfdom. Buuut...they do say "don't let the truth (how ironic) get in the way of a good story"...whether this fic is any good, I will let you decide. Hopefully it is.

** Truth, Uncertainty, and Tomorrow**

* * *

"Miss Pravda! Miss Pravda! Please, open this door this instant!" An elderly maid called out in front of an exquisitely carved dark wood door, "We need to prepare you to for tonight's dinner! What will your parents say if you refuse to follow their instructions?" A dull thud was heard as something hit the door from the inside of the room.

"No, go away!" A voice retorted back from the room. A much younger voice, perhaps one of a girl just reaching womanhood. "I don't want anything to do with their schemes! I'm going to stay in my room until they call everything off and apologize to me! I will wait for weeks if I have to!" Rustle of clothes filtered through the thin woodwork that separated the room from the outside world.

"I am being serious, Ms. Pravda. You would do well to open this door, or I will call for the key keeper to open it for me. I will be much more lenient with you if you do so of your own volition." The elder waited. No response came, and with a sigh, she turned away, moving to find the key keeper. She turned a corner, and abruptly stopped.

Another maid, of a much younger age this time, had been walking down the red carpeted corridors and almost collided with her older counterpart. The younger maid was clad in a frilly red dress and stockings. She was rather well-endowed, an aspect of her body emphasized by the low-cut dress that exposed her shoulders and a ribbon tied around her neck. Her silky black hair was well-trimmed as well, flowing down to her shoulders that not even the most gentle of waves could match in grace. She gave a light curtsy in greeting to her elder and spoke, "Is there a problem, madam? You seem troubled."

The older maid, clearly a superior of the younger, massaged her forehead, answering, "Ah Nonna, Miss Pravda is refusing to open her room again. I tried to reason with her, but she is not giving way, so I was going to the key keeper to open the door myself. I daresay a stern punishment will have to be in order after tonight passes."

"Katyusha is troubled? Please, allow me to talk to her. I may be able to convince her without resorting to such extreme measures," the younger maid, Nonna, responded. Referring to the sole daughter, nay, child, of the House of Pravda by her given name would normally have been considered a gross disrespect and a cause for punishment, but every staff and member of the House knew for years that the heiress was very fond of Nonna, and preferred being called by her given name by the maid.

"You may try, but I doubt even you will be able to get her to listen this time." The elder said in a final tone, shaking her head and giving a long sigh.

* * *

To the elder's surprise and relief Katyusha, the heiress, acquiesced and opened the barrier. She moved to enter so she could prepare the girl for the event later in the evening, but was stopped by Nonna. "May I talk to Katyusha alone? She still seems very nervous and needs to be soothed for what awaits. I believe I can do that while I dress her; I have done the job for years after all, and I am confident I can perform adequately," she whispered to the elder, to which the elder agreed, with a small degree of reluctance, and left the hall to see to other duties around the mansion.

Nonna stepped inside. A stuffed bear cub lay next to the door. She picked it up, and placed in on a nearby shelf where all the other stuffy toys rested, and approached Katyusha.

The heiress of the House of Pravda had a very petite form, made even smaller by her balling into a fetal position on her bed, having brought her knees to her chest and having wrapped her arms around them. She wore a blue and white dress with ribbon decorations around her hip area, and white stockings. Despite her age of seventeen, her chests barely showed traces of curves though her clothing and her face even retained some of the roundness of someone who might have barely reached the double digits of age. Some even called her childlike, and not only for her appearance; her stubbornness and her tantrums over the most trivial of issues were well known throughout and beyond the manor. Some noble friends of her father even lightly chastised him for having coddled her too much in her youth. Her golden hair, usually cleanly kept, was dishevelled rebelling against its typical state. Her dress was crumpled, and the bed sheets were stained wet. Her eyes were red; something caused her to cry.

"What troubles you, Katyusha? Why did you lock the door and refuse to greet anyone? Did the lord and the lady deny you a horse? A well-made doll, perhaps?" Nonna spoke, taking a seat next to Katyusha on her bed, rubbing the smaller girl's back in a relaxing motion.

"Sniff….It..It's nothing like that. They want to present Katyusha to a family member of an acquaintance of theirs." Katyusha replied whole sniffling, her head hanging down on her arms, ashamed at the evidence of her crying and refusing to let it be seen. Especially not to her personal maid, Nonna.

"That doesn't sound so bad. They probably want to show how great their only child is to their friend's family and introduce you to someone new." Nonna suspected something deeper was at play, but not knowing the details, feigned ignorance. It might be better if Katyusha revealed whatever was worrying her by herself without Nonna laying it on the table, potentially without tact.

"It's not something as simple as that, and I know that you know! The family member is supposed to be an heir to a rich household who reached marrying age some time ago! He even was married once! And…and…and…I never knew being a wife meant having to do…._those things_! I-I-I wou-would never…it's inconceivable! I won't believe this…'duty of a wife'!"

Ahh, Nonna mused. She guessed about as much. There was no denying it; Katyusha _was_ now at a marriageable age at seventeen despite her lack of growth. As a daughter of a noble family, her hand would have been given to an heir of another prominent house at some point. Which was why Nonna found it odd how Katyusha was shielded from anything to do with sex, from romantic novels to antiquities that emphasized nudity; even her playmates had been carefully combed so only the most uninformed of the topic were allowed to be her friends. She had to be told at some point; and there was no worse time to do so than just before being introduced to a potential betrothed.

"At any rate, we can't have someone so entrancing like you be left looking like this, can we? Come, I will help you set your dress straight. Will you please sit on the chair? The one facing the mirror?" Nonna offered, "I won't tell or ask you to proceed with the lord and the lady's plans and leave this room. I just do not wish to see you like this in a pitiful state," she added when Katyusha turned her head and glared at her even while keeping her face down to hide herself in shame. She weakly took Nonna's hand, and sat on a green cushioned chair placed in front of a grand mirror rimmed with a magnificent gold-plated carving.

Katyusha's face was still wet with residual tears, and was bright red in embarrassment at learning that she was to be wed soon and at learning exactly what being a wife of a grown man entailed, which brightened to new heights once she witnessed just how dirtied her appearance was. She covered her face with her hands, in an attempt hide her look from herself.

Nonna calmly took a slightly moistened handkerchief, gently removed Katyusha's hands from her face, and proceeded to wipe its surface clean of all the offending liquid. She then covered Katyusha's nose. "Blow your nose," she said, and the smaller girl complied, releasing nasal mucus that collected during her sobbing.

"Why do I have to get married? To someone whose identity I still do not know yet?" Katyusha mumbled, her voice clearer without the mucus making her sound sickly. "The House of Pravda always lived well enough. Why do my parents still desire for more money and more influence in the court?"

"Money, power, and influence are all pedestals and cushions. They allow certain people to command authority, and authority is what keeps people safe from harm. If someone slights another, by accident or intent, being a superior authority provides a shield; the former becomes nigh-untouchable. Without it, there is nothing but terror. How many serfs, Katyusha, do you think live in constant fear because they have nothing that can provide a shred of authority? How do you think serfs are treated if they so much as accidentally miscount their due to their landlords by one bushel of wheat? What choice do you think they have if their landlord wishes to take what is most dear to them without any concern? Do you think they have a choice at all?" Nonna neatly folded her handkerchief, placed in it a pocket, and moved onto the dress, attempting to straighten out all the unsightly creases and folds.

"But does the House of Pravda command enough respect and wealth already? Why else would our house be named 'truth'?" Katyusha stiffened at Nonna's touch. She did not need any more reminders of her wallowing in self-pity moments ago.

"The House of Pravda is an old house. It traces its origins back to Russia's days as a Grand Duchy of Moscow. But like all things, respect decays with time as people forget the deeds of the House's former members except in folk tales and history books. People of the house must continue doing great deeds throughout the ages if they wish to maintain their authority. Without continued excellence, respect eventually decays until none is left save for a faded glory of the past. But now that great deeds of arms, the only deeds that remain in the hearts and minds of everyone, are impossible without a declaration of war by the Tsar, sources of authority must be found elsewhere. Money is less glamorous, but no less powerful, and the quickest way to gain them is through alliance of houses. The easiest way to ensure alliances between houses is marriage between the heirs of the houses in question." The folds were quite difficult to hide, if not remove. Not only that, some stains from the tears still remained. Nevertheless, Nonna tried to see if they could be removed, continued to work on the dress.

"Then why do my parents not just have a son? Why can they not have another baby, or adopt a respectable boy?"

"The lady of the House is getting old. Too old to bear another child. Katyusha, when a woman reaches a certain age, she can no longer give birth. Also, an adopted son will never enjoy the same connection to the family in a way a son related by blood do; nor are they seen with the same prominence in any public setting. As the matter stands, you are the only hope for the future of the House of Pravda. It is a heavy weight to bear, but you must learn to take it in stride." Nonna did not expect that question. Was her education in this area so neglected that she did not even know older women had a harder time giving birth, and old women could not bear children at all?

"…..So, there is no other alternative? I must be betrothed to some man who was married once already? I, a girl who just came of age?"

"Stranger marriages have happened before, and stranger marriages will happen in the future Also, the lord and the lady certainly seems to think so considering how firm they are on this issue. This dress will need washing; it cannot be fixed by simple straightening. Please stand so I may change your clothing." Nonna finally decided the dress was in a state beyond which quick fixes could not make the article presentable. Katyusha complied, with arms outstretched to give Nonna access to the fastenings.

The ruined dress fell to the floor, leaving the petite girl in nothing but a white gown. Nonna collected the fallen clothing, and laid it upon the bed to take with her on the way out. She then opened the closet, and took another dress of the same type-Katyusha adored that dress, and decided she had to have two of the same-to clothe her master and friend.

"What will the man think of me? Will he be pleased? Will he be fond of me? Or will he barely tolerate me? Will he even tolerate me? I mean, I do….slightly, _slightly_, resemble a…a child in appearance." As much as Katyusha always denied it, she knew deep down she was lacking in some areas compared to others. Her friends sometimes talked of chest sizes and men when no adults were listening, and she specifically had Nonna for comparison. It was sometimes just not fair…she wanted to look like an adult very much, so her body was not the result of a lack of want.

"From what the other servants and maids say, his previous wife was also smaller in stature compared to other women, and loved her very much. She deceased when she slipped on a patch of snow and fell down a cliff while walking and taking in the sights of the man's vacation house." Nonna was not sure if adding in that second part was prudent, but it did show that he likely did not care much for particularly developed women.

"Will I have to….must I engage in…_those_ activities if I do get betrothed to that man? Such…such shameful acts? To show every part of my body to a man and to be touched in any way a man desires? None of my friends have done so…" Katyusha felt her face blushing once again, and was relived for some reason when Nonna slipped on a new dress on her body. No one was watching her, so why was she so nervous? Well, there was Nonna, but she was a servant, a friend, and a woman. So why? Why was her heart beating when she had all the assurances she needed?

"Marriage and intercourse is a natural part of anyone's life. Even the most savage of animals mate and leave behind offspring for the continued existence of their kind. Your friends will also meet the same fate eventually. Would it not be better for you to be the first so you may consider yourself more advanced than they are? To be an adult before others in a different way?" The buttons for the dress were always more difficult to fasten than Nonna expected, but she managed to do them without too much trouble. She took a brief halt in her job and took in the fruit of her labour. The stains on Katyusha's face were gone and nowhere to be seen and the dirtied dress was replaced with a clean one. Minor creases that appeared while putting it on a person could be easily dispatched. The hair, the blonde-gold hair that came to Katyusha's neck was still a mess. She reached for a comb. "You may sit back down now, if you would like, Katyusha."

"What does it feel like? For the most private and sensitive parts of the body to be at the mercy of a man overcome with lust? Will it be painful, for a man to force his way into the innermost regions of the flesh, splitting apart all that stands in its path?"

"The first time for many girls and women do include a measure of pain, and discomfort at the very knowledge of being seen. But if the relation is a happy one, with an understanding man, the passage may be easier. Happiness in company with the man in question relaxes the mind and body, and a relaxed woman more often than not feels more pleasure than pain." Nonna continued to answer as she brushed Katyusha's hair. They were soft as usual despite their menacing appearance at first glance just after Katyusha allowed her to enter, and the comb flowed through easily, setting each strand into an organized surface.

"Nonna, how do you know so much about those activities? Should those activities not be a mystery to anyone who is not yet made a woman?" Katyusha wondered at this point. Nonna did seem to be well-versed on the subject, and judging by her calm confidence, she had full knowledge and confidence that what she claimed was true. But that would mean…"Have you already been acquainted with those activities? With whom? When? For how long have you hidden this from me?" She suddenly felt a sense of betrayal she did not think ever existed within her.

"Do you remember when I was first brought to this manor by the lord? And do you remember my mentions of the constant fear serfs live under? Your father five years ago came to my family's house. My father had miscounted his tax, and was about to be severely punished for the crime. The lord noticed me hiding behind my mother, and after observing me for a moment, demanded that I be brought to his manor to be his 'servant' in return for pardoning my family. There were already rumours of his…less than moral deeds with young girls in the privacy of his chambers, so it was not a particularly pleasing proposition."

Katyusha was horrified. "My father? But you are nineteen years of age this year. That would mean...! He..he would never…"

"It happened. My family had no option, and I was taken to this manor, to start servicing him from that night. I was petrified, Katyusha. I did not know what depraved horrors he would unleash upon my body. But then I was lucky. Or maybe fate had intervened; I do not know to this day. I was told to stand behind him during dinner that evening. The very same dinner in which you, upon studying me, demanded that I be handed over to you as your personal maid. As you know, he eventually gave in to your whim, and here we are now."

"Does this mean that my own father lusts over young children?" Katyusha shuddered. If that was the truth, than what did her own father think of doing every time he gazed upon her, his daughter? What stopped him from his desires? He and she had been alone together for more than a few occasions before without any problems.

"Two years ago, I overheard him while passing by a room talking to an acquaintance of his. No, this is not the same acquaintance you are to become wedded to. He was quite adamant in saying that he drew his limit at his family, especially his daughter. Unfortunately, I was caught. He pretended to release me, but later that night, after his acquaintance left, he called for me, and delivered his punishment. While claiming that he had the right to the maidenhood of his subjects. This happened while you left the manor for a few days for a trip, so you could not have gotten involved." The incident was a weak spot of hers, but she tried to ignore it as best as she could, covering it with knowledge that being Katyusha's maid saved her from a lot more than that one incident. Nonna also felt safe revealing the detail to Katyusha; she was her saviour, and she was ever faithful and loyal to her master and friend for it.

Katyusha was relieved and shocked at the same time. She could rest easy in knowing that her father did not harbour any ill intent against her, but she was horrified that he had in the end claimed what belonged to Nonna.

Eventually content with the brushing, Nonna placed the comb back on a shelf, and took in her hand the large ribbon that came with the dress. She held onto each end of the tape, and proceeded to make a bowtie over the crown of Katyusha's head, slightly pushed to the front so the tie's full form was visible.

"Why do I feel so nervous, Nonna? Why do I perceive the end approaching? Why do I feel that I would be roughly treated by the man, as nothing but a toy to be played with without a concern for its well-being until it breaks, to be discarded as rubbish once it does break?"

"You are at the cusp of a new chapter of your life, Katyusha. You are about to leave the familiarity and protection of where you were born, and where you spent seventeen years of your youth, into the unknown, into the arms of a man whose personality you do not know or understand. The sense is only natural; the unknown breeds fear. Especially when you perceive no ally accompanying you to the world filled with nothing but fearful things. There, now sit up straight, if you would please, I need to assess your appearance, and I believe you would like to look at the mirror as well."

Slowly, nervously, Katyusha allowed her eyes to perceive what was visible before her. She was certainly in a much better state than she was in some time ago, when she locked herself in, determined to live out her days in the safety of the four corners of her bedroom, never mind the warnings of the key keeper by the head maid. She looked innocent, above all. Innocent, yet unsure of what future held for her. Not quite far from the truth really, she mused. "Do I truly have no allies to accompany me? Not my friends? Not my parents? Not the servants? Not even you, Nonna?

"Nothing is sure, which is why you feel so uncertain and nervous. Everything and everyone around you may change; or, nothing may change, and everyone who you hold dear may maintain threads of friendships with you even as you enter the next phase of your life. But you may rest assured that at least one, one person will always stays by you."

"Nonna?" Katyusha felt water cloud her vision once again.

"You saved me from a lifetime of depraved servitude, Katyusha. For that, I am eternally grateful. I will always follow you no matter where you happen to go. No matter how much time passes, I will stay by your side, aiding you with any and all the strength I may have. Through hardship, through joy, and through dullness, you may have certain knowledge that I will be at your beck and call if you so desire. I love you, Katyusha, for saving me from the terror. I love you, Katyusha, for all the years in this manor that I enjoyed being with you. And I will love you, Katyusha, always to and beyond my last breath that I will take someday. I love you."

Katyusha could take no more. She took Nonna in her arms, and buried her face in her bosom, releasing every drop of tear that remained in her eyes. All the while, Nonna gently stroked her back up and down, drawing out still more confusing emotions from the depths of Katyusha's soul.

* * *

**AN:**So...how was it? Good? Bad? Needs work?


End file.
